


Into Quarters

by iamanidhwal



Series: 'Tis The Season [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Fanfiction Challenge, 31 Days of Ficmas, 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge (Good Omens), 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge 2019 (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Innocent (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Oblivious (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Whipped (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Food, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Suggestive, Suggestive Themes, aziraphale is a tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21680677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamanidhwal/pseuds/iamanidhwal
Summary: For all the things that make Crowley a demon, right now -- with the angel across from him, leaning on the counter, eating away at his fourth slice of pie -- he was fairly certain that Aziraphale was downright sinful.(Day 4 of "31 Days of Ineffables" Challenge -- Cranberry)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 'Tis The Season [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560976
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Into Quarters

Their shared cottage in the South Downs was overwhelmed with the smell of a freshly-baked pie.

Crowley, with all intents, was very proud of what he had done. He had bought some fresh cranberries straight from the farmer's market earlier in the day, and he knew that Aziraphale would be back from London after a week of being away to take care of the bookshop and review the accounting of the establishment, so today was a very special day. He made sure that the cottage was spotless, made sure that the fridge and the cooler were filled with foodstuffs and drinks respectively. And for the icing on the cake, he had gone out of his comfort zone and baked a glorious cranberry pie.

(Most people would think Crowley would be a disaster at cooking, what with his inability to follow instructions to a T, re: the Antichrist incident, but God works in mysterious ways.)

And when the angel came home and opened the door, assaulted by the scent of something sweet and warm, he all but drifted into the kitchen, coat and scarf discarded.

A slight peck on the lips as a welcome-back present, a bottle of wine for Crowley and a teasing repartee between them later, and Crowley had cut the pie into quarters. It was small, and Crowley had little appetite, but he made sure that Aziraphale was right at home.

The angel had taken his pants off, complaining about how stuffy he was with all those layers, with the jarring cold December wind outside and the humid warmth inside the house, that he couldn't bear to sit and have any bottoms right now. And so there he was, leaning across the counter to take a forkful of a deliciously fresh cranberry pie of Crowley's making.

There was nothing holy about the sound that he made when the first bite popped into his mouth.

If Crowley had been a computer, his whole system would have crashed then and there. He stood still on the other side of the counter, eyes glazing over. He watched Aziraphale finish off one slice after another with no restraint as if he was having an out-of-body experience.

Around fifteen minutes passed, and Crowley's system had finally rebooted, only to crash once more seeing Aziraphale lick his fork clean.

By the time it was Aziraphale's fourth slice of pie, Crowley's knuckles had turned white, his hands straining at the ends of the counters to try and ground himself.

The angel's eyes were already half-lidded by the time he had finished. "That was scrumptious, my dear."

"G-Glad you enjoyed it," Crowley mumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was a mess naturally, more so when flustered. 

"I'm just sorry you couldn't taste it for yourself."

"Oh, I'm fine, angel, believe me."

Aziraphale tilted his head. "Would you like to have something else, instead?"

"I'm not really hungry," Crowley lied.

"Even if it was me on the menu?"

(At this point, Crowley's mind was a singular blue screen.)

"What?" he gawked intelligently, feeling the blood rush from wherever it was from to wherever it was going. 

Aziraphale just smiled innocently, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs, to where their bedroom lay beyond. "Leave the dishes. For now, it's my turn to give you a homecoming gift, wouldn't you agree?"

Crowley's head was spinning, but he liked it this way. All he uttered was a small, celebratory 'wahoo!' before Aziraphale pulled him in for a kiss and closed the bedroom door after him. 

**Author's Note:**

> something short and suggestive for day 4 because i over-exerted myself with the day 3 prompt uwu


End file.
